


goodbye, my almost love

by majoramort



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Pining, flashbacks sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majoramort/pseuds/majoramort
Summary: But she would’ve denied it with her dying breath. If someone had plucked the thoughts out of her mind, the way she longed for the gentle way Adora rubbed her arm, the way she whisper-sang her name, her soft smile when Catra cracked an eye open—yeah. She would’ve curled up and died on the spot.--Adora got Catra through the hard years in the Horde. After she leaves, Catra finds her in a broken dream.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	goodbye, my almost love

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "almost lover" by a fine frenzy  
> italicized lyrics at the beginnings of each section taken from "the other side" by ruelle

_Did we ever see it coming? Will we ever let it go?_

Growing up in the Horde, Catra had shared a sleeping room with someone, or multiple someones, her whole life. It couldn’t even be called a bedroom, because a “bedroom” implied belonging. There was almost no belonging in the Horde, so it was a sleeping room. 

Catra had laid claim to the top bunk for years now, just above Adora. When they were young, she had forced Adora to take the bottom bunk. Adora was more than willing to appease her, and that had been their arrangement ever since. As years passed, friendships shifted and sleeping arrangements changed, but Catra and Adora always stayed on the same set of bunks. Many times, though, when Catra was upset or just craving some extra support, she curled up at the end of Adora’s bunk, sleeping soundly at her feet.

It was a functional situation, really. As kids, Catra spent so many mornings sleeping heavily while Adora rose on time consistently. Adora would always jump out of the bottom bunk, stretch her arms, and wake Catra up gently (hoping not to get scratched—she’d been there before. Not pretty.) Catra would put up a fuss, rolling over and pointing her ears down while Adora laughed. Over time, she had begun to wake up at the same time as Adora, sometimes even earlier. She used to lay on the rough Horde-provided sheets, eyes shut tight, waiting for stirring in the bottom bunk. When it came, she very _artfully_ buried her face within the rock hard (also Horde-provided) pillow, willing her features to seem tired. She didn’t want Adora to know that she didn’t _need_ waking up every morning. 

But she would’ve denied with to her dying breath. If someone had plucked the thoughts out of her mind, the way she longed for the gentle way Adora rubbed her arm, the way she whisper-sang her name, her soft smile when Catra cracked an eye open—yeah. She would’ve curled up and died on the spot. 

* * *

_We are buried in broken dreams._

There were a few instances where people took notice of this occurrence, though not all were obvious to Catra and Adora. Mostly, fellow Horde teenagers were understanding and kept quiet outside of their small friend groups. There was a stress on everyone, and people generally understood that there was a special bond between the two of them that didn’t get spoken about or poked fun at like other teenage Horde relationships—mostly because they were afraid of Catra and her violent temper. 

When she thinks about the few instances in which people other than Adora noticed her feelings, Catra’s blood turns to ice at one memory in particular.

They’re thirteen years old. It’s an unusually rough week of training. Everybody’s muscles were sore and aching for even one day off, but Lord Hordak is unimpressed with his soldiers’ progress. They _must_ keep conditioning to get better, no matter the physical cost. Catra slept through most of the night, waking up early and knowing internally there was still a quarter-hour before she has to report to first-meal.

She lets herself relax. Or, she lets herself relax as much as she can into a mattress that feels like it has rocks instead of springs. Her eyes stare, unseeing, into the dark room, the only sounds being the whirring of some tech that was built into the Fright Zone architecture. Even as limber as she is, the constant conditioning _hurt._ At this point in her life, she’s already prepared to kill Shadow Weaver, or whoever it is that was making them go through literal hell, if—oh. Adora is awake and standing up, like, _now_.

Catra snaps her eyes shut and relaxes her body. Unlike other times, she left her face exposed. She peeks her blue eye open. Against the faint glow of machinery and random tech, she sees Adora’s silhouette. Her hair is down, hanging messily past her shoulders. She hasn’t had a haircut in a while, and was probably due for one soon. She wore the same standard issue white tank top and shorts as Catra, but always somehow looked indescribably better, even at 0500 hours. Her silhouetted figure elongates when she stretches her arms through the air, relieving some of the tension from Adora’s own awful mattress.

Turning around, Adora leans forward over Catra. Wrapped up precariously in her sheet, Catra’s tail is flung haphazardly across her torso as she lays on her side, hugging onto her pillow more than resting her head on it. She looks… at peace. 

“Hey, Catra. Time to wake up,” Adora whispers.

Catra, on the other hand, is a little more on edge. Other soldiers have begun to wake up behind her. She hears Rogelio growling through a meal wall. _Ugh._ Another day dealing with these people was another day wasted that she could’ve been sleeping. Or training with Adora. Or hanging out with Adora. Or—

Catra’s thoughts slam to a stop as she feels Adora’s fingers nimbly running through her hair, smoothing some of the tangles. It feels odd. It feels nice. It feels like a million things that Catra can’t explain, while a rock grows inside her stomach and her fists clench. Why does this feel… warm? She decides to take a chance, continuing her facade of sleep. Her heart starts pounding. Adora had always been delicate, but never _this_ delicate, never this bold to touch her ears. 

Her ears? Catra knew she must be hallucinating. The only time Adora had ever touched her ears was when they were kids, playing around, and Catra had been weirdly insecure about them, never having met someone else that looked like her. This was entirely different. Uncharted territory, even. 

Feeling graceful fingertips and soft hands stroking her ears, Catra subconsciously presses her head into Adora’s palm. They are rough from being trained for combat since childhood but soft with the kindness that she knew only Adora possessed. They are warm and loving, and Catra almost forgets where she is. Almost—before a banging on the bunk frame yanks her from her stupor.

“Get up, bedhead, or we’re going to be late and get extra miles.”

“Lonnie!” Catra shrieks at the top of her lungs. She knows she must be a vision to behold, hair half-tangled, sticking up in all different directions, and clothes still crumpled from sleep. “Go. Away.” She snarls through bared teeth. Lonnie holds her hands up in a defensive gesture before backing away, grinning slightly at having clearly struck a nerve in a usually-docile Catra, who was now rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. 

Dropping her arms to her lap, she tries to find the courage to look at Adora. They had been caught in a moment of… what? What was it? She had always felt a tightening in her chest where Adora was involved, but rarely ever a moment of pure happiness. Rarely a moment like the one she just lived where she would gladly press pause and live in forever. Now, all she felt was embarrassment. Slowly, she looks up at Adora.

Her hair is down, falling around her shoulders, and her face is subtly lit up by the faint glow of a light that someone has activated. Her cheeks are flushed, and her mouth hangs slightly agape, brows raised and wide-eyed. Her hand still rests on Catra’s pillow, but she quickly retracts it once Catra notices. 

Shame blossoms through Catra’s chest. It seeps from her heart, through her veins, and into the air around her. Adora’s face tells her all she needs to know. She’s embarrassed, too, but for different reasons.

“Lonnie’s right. We have to get moving,” Adora speaks quietly, the words vanishing into the thin air of the room. Suddenly incredibly interested in the ground, she tugs on a strand of her hair. “I’m going to get dressed now. You… you should, too.”

Adora turns away, kneeling to grab her clothes. Catra leans back to look at the ceiling, metal like the rest of the Fright Zone, and wishes for it to come hurtling down upon her.

* * *

_We are knee-deep without a plea._

When they found the sword of She-Ra, Catra felt in her bones that everything was about to change. 

Catra was _not_ totally fine with Adora being promoted to Force Captain, even for the grief she gave her. Being Force Captain meant Adora got to leave. She _had_ to leave, and leave Catra behind because of it. Maybe Catra would be able to join her on missions occasionally, but this was ultimately the moment that she had been dreading for years—the fork in the road where destiny began to pry them apart. 

For years, Catra had grown frustrated with Adora’s ignorance. Adora _meant_ something to Catra, something much more than the glitter-and-rainbows “best friend” that people outside of the Fright Zone supposedly have. Bleh. Whatever it was, she either didn’t know the word for it or it didn’t exist yet and she was going to have to invent it. 

So, yeah, seeing Adora with the Force Captain Badge may have affected her a little.

* * *

_I don’t want to know what it’s like to live without you._

After the whole “Force-Captain-Badge” incident, Catra knew that the universe had decided that she was very _clearly_ fresh out of free passes. When she manages to get Adora out of the Whispering Woods and back onto the skiff to the Fright Zone, she can feel her nerves fraying at the edges with every second. 

Catra moves like a machine through getting food, brushing her teeth, and washing her hair before bed. She notices how Adora doesn’t put on comfortable sleep clothes, instead opting to sleep in her day clothes. She does the same. They’re both worn out, and it’s just more convenient that way. She makes an effort to crack jokes that don’t land with Adora because her mind is somewhere else. Somewhere not on Catra. Somewhere that Catra cannot follow. 

Adora is already in her bunk when Catra enters the sleeping room, cupping her Force Captain badge in her hands. She’s curled up near the top of her bed, her pillow propped behind her back. She looks conflicted.

Stuck in the doorway, Catra feels like there is an invisible string between them that has existed for years. She is tied to Adora, whether Adora is tied back or not. Now, she feels that someone—maybe Adora, maybe someone else—is taking a saw to the string, breaking it to pieces. She feels ice in her stomach.

Crouching down, Catra tries to awkwardly smile. She gives a shy “Hey, Adora.” It’s quieter than she means for it to be, and her voice breaks halfway through the first word. She’s showing too many teeth. She feels like she’s choking. It seems to snap Adora out of some sort of trance, and she sucks in a breath through her beautiful, perfect, soft—lips. Adora’s lips. That Catra is staring at. 

She wants to throw herself across the other girl. Beg her to never leave, to stay, even if there are Horde missions and woods that whisper and weird swords and things that are objectively one thousand times more interesting than the girl she’s been stuck with for years. But she can’t, and she isn’t ready. She isn’t prepared to put into words what she’s feeling or why she’s feeling it, just that the thought of being without Adora makes her want to throw up, and that she is _scared._ For the first time in her life, she is completely terrified of losing someone. And she’s been told she should communicate better and be more respectful of other people’s feelings, so could she just share that?

Adora is looking up and down the other girl’s face with tender concern. Both of them realize that Adora hasn’t responded, instead clutching the Force Captain badge to her chest. Her hand envelops it, and Catra wants to throw it across the room. 

“I’m, uh. Going to sleep for the night. Congr—Good job. On Force Captain, I mean. Goodnight.” 

Catra stumbles through her sentence before moving at the speed of light to curl up at the end of Adora’s bed, but not before witnessing how Adora opens her mouth to say something. She doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t know what she wants to hear. She lays in a ball, at first with her eyes closed. She opens her eyes once she knows Adora is probably asleep. The sounds of beeping machinery, the air conditioning and filtering units running, and some other girl snoring perforates her hearing. Try as she might, Catra cannot focus on any one of these things to block out the sounds of Adora breathing. 

She must have been awake for hours. Her head throbbed with the missed sleep, not used to staying awake for this long. She made it a rule long ago that she wasn’t allowed to sulk in her bed, or else she always ended up grumpy and inevitably scratching someone. Adora had come up with that rule. _Adora._ Adora, the one who came up with the idea for Catra to start sleeping at the foot of her bed. She wants desperately with her whole body to feel surprised when she senses Adora trying to silently leave the room. And she’s not quite ready yet, but she follows her anyways. 

And then Adora leaves her and everything they ever shared behind. Catra feels pressure under her knees, and the damp palms of her hands pressed against the cool metal flooring. Her face is hot and she feels tears blind her, and her throat is constricting as if someone were squeezing it shut to stop her from screaming after Adora. Her heart feels heavy enough to fall out of her chest and through every layer of the Fright Zone until it reaches the very core of Etheria.

She doesn’t sleep that night. 

* * *

_Don’t want to know the other side of a world without you._

When Catra is promoted to Force Captain, she can’t believe it. After Adora’s betrayal, she is finally _free._ She is able to show the world that she never needed Adora and that she is strong. She is to be feared. She is to be revered. 

In the beginning, her successes are many and her failures are few. She goes to her private quarters every night, goes through her routine, and then sleeps like a rock until morning. Then, she wakes up, acts the part of a fierce military leader, and repeats the cycle. 

She isn’t lonely. 

She _isn’t._

Catra convinces herself that she is her own best company and that everyone else in the Horde simply isn’t good enough or focused enough for her to waste her time on. If they like her, good. If they fear her, even better _._ She won’t let herself get close to anyone ever again. Other people just make you lose sleep and precious time that you could be gaining land for the Horde. 

She leads a strategy meeting every evening. It went well tonight, minus a few bumps from Kyle, but those were to be expected. She eats stew from the mess hall in solitude, then walks back to her quarters, face emotionless, eyes unfocused. She doesn’t even acknowledge the people she walks by in the halls, her feet padding along the cold metal. In her room, she has few personal belongings. Not any of note, not anymore. She has cleansed herself of all memories of Adora.

Catra methodically clambers under her covers—plural now. Force Captain privileges and all. She closes her eyes and slips into another dreamless sleep. 

Except it isn’t. 

She can hear birds chirping, and what she thinks is a fountain rushing in the distance. She’s in a grand hall of ornate white and gold, lush carpet under her feet. She can smell rich pastries and fruits from somewhere behind her. The air is clean and she tries unsuccessfully to fill her lungs with it. It’s warm, but not from being surrounded by death and super-weapons, by being open to the sun and nature.

A little boy with pink and purple hair runs past her, barely coming up to her knees. She turns to see that he is being chased by a woman with the same outlandish hair. They’re both laughing. She turns back and walks to face an open window. She is shocked. Her muscles tense, and she can’t breathe. It’s beautiful. 

She’s in a castle that she thinks must be made of pure crystal. It’s surrounded by shimmering aquamarine waters and the sky is a clear shade of blue, something that she never sees in the Fright Zone. She watches as lilac clouds float by, and reaches with her fingers to trace the outlines of celestial bodies that she is seeing for the first time in her life. 

She gets a prickling feeling on the back of her neck and whips around. There stands a woman in a long white dress, blonde hair flowing out through a circlet with a red gemstone in the center. Catra falls to her knees, unable to stay upright. 

“There you are, Catra. I’ve been looking for you.”

Adora. _Adora. A-do-ra. Adoradoraadoraadora_

Adora looks genuinely happy, and unadulterated joy paints her face with the same glow of the waters outside. Catra knows it can’t be real. She’s dreaming for the first time in weeks. Maybe months. 

Adora isn’t here anymore. Adora left. 

The vision flickers until the castle crumbles apart and falls into the ground with a tremor. The water washes it away and the sky cracks into a million pieces, creating rains of pure acid. The moons roll away in the sky, exploding into dust. The stars blind her eyes until she is sure she will never see again.

She is alone in her quarters in the Fright Zone. 

Catra registers her surroundings in fragments. She sweat so much that her hair and hands are damp, and her clothes stick to her skin. Her face is smeared with burning tears. She is barely breathing in the filtered air from the building’s vents. 

Every one of her senses is dialed up farther than they’ve been in her life. Catra cries out, throwing her pillow across the room, hearing a _thump_ as it smacks against the door and falls on the ground. 

For the first time since Adora walked out, Catra lets herself sob, the body-wracking kind that shakes her whole bed. And she finally knows what the word she was looking for was. How she could’ve been able to stop Adora from leaving her. 

Love.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a tumblr to ramble about She-Ra and various other things on my mind. It's kind of barren right now, but I'd love to make friends!  
> Come say hi!
> 
> lothal-nightly.tumblr.com


End file.
